A/N: When I started writing this chapter I realized that the arc 'A Dragon's Call' wasn't finished yet like I said it was in the last chapter. Oops, clumsy me. I'll probably need one more chapter to wrap it up.

Also, I'd like to thank all the people who've reviewed for this fanfic so far.

Megadracosaurus: You were the first person to review my story so I'm forever thankful for you stepping up to the plate first.

JeroCN: You're blend of compliments and helpful criticism is refreshing. Thx.

Daedric X: Thanks for sharing my frustrations on trying to find a fanfic to our liking.

Zerosity: Thanks for your input which I constantly use. You are also the only person who has actually reviewed twice. So I guess that makes you twice as great a follower.

Disclaimer: I don't own the elder scrolls.

Power

Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.

Abraham Lincoln

The city had been held, but at a terrible cost. The bodies of the dead laid testament to that fact. Those who sacrificed all for the city were buried just outside of its walls. While many tended to the dead, many more were needed to care for the living. The wounded filled every available building. Any with skill in restoration or any healing arts were called upon to care for the injured. One such injured was Jayson. His injury had to be bandaged on the field before they could even think about moving his unconscious body. After that they carried him to the Bannered Mare and placed him on one the beds. Jenassa stayed by his side the entire time waiting for him to awake. Healers visited him and tended the wound in more detail.

The hours ticked by and he still refused to awaken. During the long hours Jenassa visited Lydia as well. The housecarl had received worse injuries than her thane. Her left arm was badly bruised as was her back. The worst injury though was here right shoulder. In her fall she landed on it, breaking it. The healers said that they had done what they could, now time was the best herb to heal the wound. As one can imagine, this news did not sit well the housecarl. Without her shoulder she couldn't swing a sword with that arm.

"I can still fight with my left." She said. To prove the point, she waved her 'good' arm. She winced in pain.

"Perhaps it would be best if you didn't" Offered Jenassa. Lydia grunted in irritation and Jenassa decided to return to Jayson. She sat down at a nearby chair, listening to his rhythmic breathing. "Why won't you wake up?" She asked quietly.

"Because it isn't morning yet."

"Still, you could at least have the decency to…" She looked down at Jayson and realized that he had just spoken. In fact, he was quite awake, his eyes looking up at the worrying dark elf.

"You're awake!"

"Obviously." He deadpanned

"How long?"

"Just when you walked out of the room a few minutes ago. How long have I been out?"

"A few hours. I think it's just past midnight now."

"Have you been here the whole time?"

"Most of it, yes." The answer appeared to unsettle Jayson. He shifted uncomfortably and his face set into a neutral state. Jenassa noticed and moved to leave. "If you want I can leave."

"No, wait."

Jenassa halted. "Yes?"

"Can you… stay a little longer?"

Jenassa held back a smile. "Of course." They talked for hours. Nothing of particular importance, but they enjoyed each other's company. Later that night Jayson asked for a paper, quill and ink. Carefully he drafted a letter, the contents of which Jenassa did not see. A few moments later a courier entered the inn and found Jayson. The courier gave him a letter and Jayson gave him his along with a few gold coins. Jayson read the letter he had recieved and frowned.

You've caused quite a stir, Dragonborn, not all are eager at your coming. I on the other hand, wish to see you grow stronger. Skyrim needs a hero these days. Go to Eldersblood Peak, I hear there is power that can only be unlocked by the Dragonborn.

At one point they both must've fallen asleep for the next thing she remembered was waking up the next morning.

When Jayson woke up he realized two things immediately. One, his leg didn't hurt. Two, he wasn't alone in the room. The latter would have bothered him the most if he hadn't recognized the person as a sleeping Jenassa. Quietly he removed the bandages on his leg. His jaw dropped. Where the injury should have been was nothing more than a white ridge of skin.

"How is that possible?" He was dumbfounded. His leg had been near useless last night. Now, it was almost perfect. Restoration users could've done this, but it was unlikely any of the priests would have expended that much magicka on one soldier. The only answer he could think of was his dragon soul. It had given him endurance, now it was giving him fast healing capabilities.

On that topic he wasn't sure what to think. Him being a human with a dragon soul. Honestly, it was a bit unnerving. He tried to take his mind off of it by testing out his leg. Carefully he made his way to the edge of the bed and slowly stood up. It wouldn't tolerate all the usual weight it endured, so when he tried to walk he limped some.

"Better than being trapped in bed." His movement awoke Jenassa, who rubbed his eyes and stretched her sore back. That's what comes of falling a sleep in a hard, wooden chair.

"Jayson, what are you doing?" She said mid-yawn. He pointed to where his injury was. "That's incredible! How?"

"I don't know." Jayson looked down and noticed for the first time he wasn't wearing his armor, but a pair of everyday clothes. "Where's my armor?" Jenassa looked around and pointed to discombobulated pile of what was his armor. He looked at the pile and then at Jenassa. "Could you, uh…" He made 'away' motion with his hand.

"Oh, yes, of course." She stuttered and left the room, getting his meaning. Within a few minutes he exited the room as well. Dressed in a battered and bloodied set of elvish.

"I'll have to fix this later."

"Where are you going?"

"Jorrvaskr."

"Why."

"I need to get stronger."

"How come?"

Jenassa frowned. He wasn't giving the answers she wanted, the more straightforward kind. From past experience she guessed he probably wasn't going to give anymore information so she decided against pestering him. Instead, she followed him out of the tavern to learn what she could from watching.

North of Skyrim in the Sea of Ghosts were many islands. Almost all were uninhabited. The cold and the sea driving away a frivolous travel. The dragons had a name for these islands. Faal Laat Gaard, The Last Sanctuary. It was here that dragons fled after the defeat of their lord, Alduin. It was here that a small remnant hid in the face of being hunted down and slaughtered like common deer. At one time, as many as a dozen called this hidden islands home. Now, only one still did. Wuthporaak, the watcher of the hidden islands.

Long had sat upon snow-ridden chunks of rock. Even before the fall of the dov he sat and watched. Once, he watched men from the north sail to Tamriel for the first time. Once, he watched Ysgramor arrive with 300 companions in tow. Once, he watched Talos of Atmora sail to the continent. Now, he watched Gutlokmiin fly towards him from the south. He made no motion to fly to greet him, only watched. The dragon's scales where snow white, whether that was their natural color none but he knew. Because of their color he blended in with his surroundings easily. It took Gutlokmiin several minutes to find the island upon which he sat. When he did, he landed on it. Only then did the dragon speak.

"Drem yol lok." He said.

"Drem yol lok." Gutlokmiin replied.

"Why have you come?"

"I have come seeking aid. The Dovahkiin has come, and Alduin's fall is nigh. I wish for your aid in the coming battle that the dov must wage."

Wuthporaak's head turned northward once more. "Nothing ever comes from the north anymore. They come from the south now, if from anywhere. The last was the dark elf and his companions. I know not if they ever returned." A long sigh escaped the aging dragon. Excluding Alduin he was the oldest dragon of all time. He had seen the dragons in all their glory and their fall.

Hours past without any words being said. Gutlokmiin knew that the older dragon was thinking, and he was willing to wait for his response. Gutlokmiin shifted his position for a more comfortable one. He was no spring chicken himself. Age was beginning to catch up with him as well. Most dragons never experienced aging. But inactivity had taken its toll on what few dragons remained in existence. Despite what the humans believed. Many dragons had survived through the years. Most had retreated deep into divine-forsaken mountains, most never heard from again. The few that remained were becoming feeble. Dragons were made to fly the sky freely, not hide in caves.

Gutlokmiin noticed that the older dragon was taking deeper breaths, each one larger than the last. Without warning, Wuthporaak turned to the south and bellowed his roar, a roar to rival the Greybeards and Alduin himself. Gutlokmiin could see decades begin to fall from the dragons scales. The old one began to beat his wings. Slowly at first, but gaining strength each time. With another roar he lept into the sky, Triumphant.

"I go to the south with you. Wah yol ahrk kein ont zuk!"

Gutlokmiin smiled (as much as a dragon could) and lept into the air as well. His roar joining with Wuthporaak. Where one once flew now two there were. Alduin might have been a bit nervous had he known an old enemy was gathering allies.

When Jayson entered the mead hall he was greeted by a familiar face.

"So, you decided to join us after all." Said Aela.

"Aye, that I have."

"You need to speak with our Harbinger, Kodlak, he'll see if you have what it takes. Good luck."

Jayson made his way downstairs, stopping only briefly to a dark elf get his hide tanned by a nord woman. As he made his way his thoughts strayed to yesterdays events, to Morrard. Death was no stranger to Jayson. He had seen soldiers die before, but her death hit him hard. She had a youthful eagerness and vigor that reminded Jayson of someone else. She had been shot in the back, like his comrades that had been killed the day he set foot in Skyrim. Her death angered him all the more, but the anger was directed at himself. He had failed them, he had failed her. He had not been strong enough to save his friends or her. Worse still, he had given in to an anger that he was certain originated from his draconic side. He felt such power course through his veins when he gave in to it. But the cost had been too high. No, he would not fall to its allure again. That was why he was here, to get stronger.

"But I still hear the call of the blood."

Jayson froze.

"We all do. It is our burden to bear. But we can overcome."

The voices were coming from the room ahead of him. The Harbinger's quarters, or so the directions Aela gave him said. The second voice was distinctly older, the harbinger probably.

"You have my brother and I, obviously. But I don't know if the rest will go along so easily."

"Leave that to me." Jayson decided that now was a good time to enter the room. Two pairs of eyes examined him as he entered. One man was old and grey, the other in his prime.

"A stranger comes to our hall."

Jayson straightened to his full height, which caused slight discomfort to his leg. "I would like to join the companions."

The old man wasn't surprised. If he was, he didn't show. "Would you now? Here, let me have a look at you. Yes, perhaps, a certain strength of spirit." Before Jayson could thank him for the compliment, the other companion spoke up.

"Master, you're not truly considering accepting him?"

"I'm nobodies master, Vilkas. Last I checked, there were some empty beds for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

"Apologies, but perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider."

If he only knew

"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes people come to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart."

"And their arm."

"Of course," Kodlak turned his attention to Jayson. "How are you in battle boy."

Jayson shrugged. "I can handle myself, but I know I have much to learn. That's why I have come."

Kodlak nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit. This is Vilkas, he will test your arm."

Jayson nodded, as did Vilkas. They both made their way upstairs and out to the training yard.

Jenassa had opted not to go in to the mead hall. So to pass the time she went out into the training yard to watch the warriors practice. They didn't appear to mind. In fact, they seemed to relish in the attention. Jenassa was certain many of them were showing off for her. She just rolled her eyes and continued to watch. The door to the mead hall opened and Jenassa saw Jayson and another man enter the training yard. The one man in unusual waved the others off who immediately moved to obey.

"The old man said to have a look at you. So let's get to it." The man drew his sword and shield while Jayson unsheathed his own blade. Jenassa could hear the other warriors making bets on who would win. Most were on the man Jayson was fighting. For a few moments they circled each other, waiting for the first move. Jayson attacked first, a downward slash easily blocked by the man's shield. The man countered with a stab, Jayson sidestepped. So the fighting continued.

Jenassa could see that they were close to equals, and Jayson was beginning to play defensive. At first, she thought he was losing, but as looked closer she noticed he wasn't wearing out. At least, not as fast as his opponent. She smirked, she could see what he was doing. His opponents was weighed down by heavier armor and a shield. Jayson was wearing considerably lighter armor and carried no shield.

He's wearing him out.

Her suspicions were confirmed when Jayson suddenly turned to the offensive. Pummeling his opponent with dozens of solid strokes. The man fought admirably but was too tired to hold off for long. Sure enough, Jayson knocked the blade out of the man's hand then held him at sword point.

"Not bad." The man conceded. "Next time won't be so easy." Jayson snorted and shook his head.

Male pride. Jenassa thought.

"Your turn." A woman next to her said. Jenassa frowned.

"What are you talking…" Jenassa turned around and a saw a beautiful woman clothed in a gold robe standing just to her right. She didn't know how, but she knew exactly who it was. "Meridia?"

The daedric prince rolled her eyes. "Who else? Now go up there and challenge the boy." No one appeared to notice the woman, or they were just that oblivious.

"But I can't…"

Meridia held up a finger and shook it at her like a mother scolding a child. "No 'buts' now go. You'll do fine."

Jenassa sighed and wondered if it had been the smart thing to become the champion of a daedric prince in the first place. Reluctantly she moved to the center of the training yard where Jayson still stood. The other man had made himself scarce.

"My turn." She stated flatly. Jayson at first looked doubtful then shrugged his shoulders and prepared himself. They circled each other and waited for an opening. Jenassa thought of everything she could that might help her in the fight.

His sword is a little longer than Dawnbreaker, that'll give him more reach. He can use one or both hands in a fight. He's fast, so am I. His fighting style military, but eastern. Similar to back home.

She lunged forward striking as fast as she could, hoping to catch him unawares. No good. He was wide awake. She thought he looked surprised at her speed and ferocity but he quickly recovered and began to turn the battle in his favor. Jenassa noticed that their techniques were almost identical, like they had been trained by the same teacher, but she quickly dismissed the notion. More warriors gathered to watch and Jenassa definitely noticed out of the corner of her money changing hands.

It's amazing he can fight like this with a limp.

"Use that against him." said Meridia. "He has a weak left leg. Use that to your advantage." Jayson didn't appear to hear her, which didn't surprise Jenassa at all. It seemed underhanded, but then again, her father once told her that all was fair in war. Without a moment to lose she began to attack his left side, the side of the bad leg. Jayson noticed the change and attempted to compensate. In the attempt he put too much pressure on his leg. He winced and faltered, just the chance Jenassa needed. With one flick of her wrist the point of Dawnbreaker was poking his chest.

"Told you you'd do fine." Said Meridia.

Translations:

Wuthporaak: old isle guide

Wah yol ahrk kein ont zuk!: To fire and war once more!

A/N: Don't worry, I'll be back.